Breaking Point
by BittersweetXDInsanity
Summary: Everything has a breaking point. Even if you try so hard to grasp the one thing that keeps you going, eventually that life line snaps. Campbell Saunders put on a well-rehearsed act, hiding the pain behind his smile. Maya believed him. She didn't see his breaking point until it was too late. And now only Cam can save himself. CAMAYA/MAYBELL
1. Letting Go

**A/N: Welcome to my first Degrassi fanfiction! I, like many deggrasi fans, was devastated when I watched the episode, 'Bittersweet Symphony'. I guess it was those strong feelings that compelled me to write this story. When I first wrote this chapter, I had planned on it being another oneshot. But I was unsatisfied with leaving Cam's story like this, and before I knew it, my oneshot turned into a full length story. **** In this fanfiction, Cam survives his suicide attempt, I will be doing chapters from Cam's pov, and Maya's pov. I will be updating this story frequently, as I have already written most of it. Also, I would be SUPER joyful if you leave any reviews, suggestions, or requests. In fact, I will give a shout out to all the people who review! :D Constructive criticism is always welcome. :D**

**Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it!**

**CAM'S POV**

_**You're**__**a psycho. If you care about Maya, then you should get out of her life, FOREVER.**_** Zigs painful words ring in my head as I walk away from the front steps of Degrassi, leaving the happy meals that I bought Maya and I behind. I listen to the sound of my footsteps on the pavement as a variety of thoughts swirl in my head. Zig has no idea how messed up I really am! He's just jealous that Maya Matlin is my girlfriend and not his. I try to tell myself that he's wrong, and that Maya is happy with me, but there's a voice inside my mind whispering that he's telling the truth. I am a psycho. Just a homesick sophomore who hurts himself just so he can avoid hockey practice. I'm pathetic. I try to take deep breaths as I wonder where things went wrong for me. I always assumed that the sadness was because I was far away from home, but maybe I'm just crazy. **

**I feel tightness in my chest, and I think to myself, **_**not another anxiety attack. Not now.**_** But my heart is now racing, and I know that there's nothing I can do about it. So I sling my skate bag over my shoulder and run. I'm not sure where I'm running too, I just know I can't go back to school, because that would mean going to hockey practice. I also can't go back to my billet parents house, because that's just another reminder that my real home is 12 hours away. And I defiantly can't stay here because Maya is going to show up any second and I don't want her to see me like this. **

**Maya. **

**I picture her soft blond curls and baby blue eyes. She's so talented, so beutiful, so smart. I don't know how I ever got so lucky as to have her as my girlfriend. Ever since I moved to Toronto so I could join the Ice Hounds hokey team and chase my N.H.L dreams, Maya had been the only good thing in my life. I used to love hockey back in Kapuskasing, I loved my team and I loved the rush I would get when I scored a goal. But here in Toronto, my team hates me and pushes me around every chance they get, just because I'm not a womanizing sleaze ball like them. Everybody puts so much pressure on me. Nobody cares who the real Campbell Saunders is; they just want to know the hockey player who someday might make it big in the N.H.L. Everyone except Maya. She doesn't care that I might be famous one day, or that I will make a lot of money. She only cares about the brown eyed, brown haired boy that sits behind her in French class. She even told me on our first date that she hates hockey, and I had said, "Me too." Maya isn't just some puck bunny, she's the girl I love. Whenever I'm with her, the anxiety and sorrow fades away. She makes me feel so much better, and it destroys me to think that I'm making her worse. If leaving forever is what it takes to make her happy, then that's what I'll do.**

**I run a bit longer before I finally sit down on an abandoned curb and try to calm down, though the tightness in my chest doesn't disappear. I look out at the highway, watching as the stop lights change green, yellow, and red. A few people drive by, and I watch them as they continue on with their lives. A woman with her kids in the backseat. A man with a brief case, probably returning home from work to his family. A young couple, maybe a couple years older than Maya and I, jamming to a familiar pop song. All of these strangers pass by me, but they're too busy with their happy lives to notice me siting by the road, clenching my fists. It's like I'm frozen in time, while life is moving on without me. If all these people can be happy, then why can't I? Why can't I just suck it up and be the guy that everybody wants me to be? Why do I have to be such a screw up? For a minute I think about jumping in front of one of those cars, colliding into a stranger's life. But no, that's crazy. "If you cared about Maya you would get out of her life forever." Then again I am psycho, right?**

**It takes me a minute before I realize my phone is buzzing. I reach into my pocket and check my messages. One facerage alert for hockey, two missed texts from Dallas asking why the hell I'm not at practice, and three ignored texts and one call from Maya. I ignore Dallas and open the texts from Maya.**

**MayaMat114: Hey cheesy :) **

**MayaMat114: Cam?**

**MayaMat114: I'm going 2 call U so pick up.**

**Usually a text from Maya can always bring a smile to my face, but now it only makes me feel worse. How can I explain what I'm feeling?**

**'Hey, sorry babe, I can't eat lunch with you because I'm too busy staring at random strangers and dreaming about getting run over by a car.' I can't tell her that. I don't want her to know that I'm sad. Because when I'm with her I'm okay. That's the only time I'm happy, and I don't want her to worry about me. But maybe she already knows. I think back to when I was packing my bags to leave (as if I had some where to go). She showed up at my billet parents house to stop me. I admitted that I was unhappy, so she simply told me to stay and try to smile. Even after that, when I jumped off our schools catwalk. I was told I had a broken arm and couldn't play hockey for six months, and Maya had asked me if my fall was really an accident. I was accused because I told her that, "I'm not some kind of loser who tries to hurt himself." I said that I would be happy because I could spend more time with her. Those six months were the best time of my life. She asked what would happen when I went back to hockey- and this, this is what happened.**

**Maya probably knows I'm crazy. Her life was so much easier when I wasn't in the picture. Zig is right. If I care about Maya, then I should leave her. But that's the problem. If I leave her, then I'm afraid I won't ever be happy again, and I don't want to feel sad anymore. **

**I look up at the sky and close my eyes. The sun feels so warm, yet I'm shaking. I clench my jaw. One second. Two seconds. Life is ticking on without me. Three seconds. Four seconds. I'm still frozen. Five. Six. I turn my phone back on and click on Maya's contact. Seven. Eight. I click on new message and type, "I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over." Nine. Ten. I take one last look at her profile picture before I sling my hockey bag over my shoulder and start walking. In ten seconds I've decided my fate, and this time, I know where I'm going.**

—

**It's around 7:00 PM when I finally arrive at Degrassi. By now everyone is home, and the school should be locked. But I'm not going inside the school, where all the anxiety has taken root. I'm going to the place where Maya and I would meet, where one of our first dates was, and where we had our first kiss. The greenhouse. **

**I jog over to the familiar structure, taking one last look at the world that has so coldly forgotten about me. **

**The sun is slowly disappearing behind the horizon, causing an explosion of warm colours across the now navy sky. The darkness may be taking over, but that's alright. Because the sun will always come out again, chasing away the black. That's how it always has been, how it will be until forever ends. The sun will always rise. But even if the sun is out, there will always be shadows, lurking where the light can't reach. It hides in the dark crevices of your mind, slowly engulfing your every thought. No one can see the taint, but it's there. It hides behind your smile, wearing you down, causing you to crumble. Slowly it dissolves the sun beams, until it leaves you completely in the shade. That's what happened to me. You can try to stop it; you can try to surround yourself with people who make you happy. And it works, for a little while. But what are you supposed to do when the shadow that is plaguing you start to loom over the ones you love? Are you supposed to watch as the clouds engulf them as well? I'm staring at the sun, but all I see is black. What little light that was once inside of me has flickered out.**

**I stare out at the sun one last time, watching as the brilliant colors fade to black. I wish life was as easy as that.**

**For some reason, the stupidest thought comes to my mind: 'The hockey guys would call me gay if they knew I just thought that.'**

**I'm not really sure what is happing now. I notice that the air is much warmer in the green house, almost humid. I try to breath, but I'm taking short breaths of the heavy air, taking in the earthy scent of plant mulch. If I was here on normal conditions, I would probably be running around smelling every flower, laughing as I drag Maya with me. But anything "normal" walked out of my life about eight months ago, and I don't think salinity is coming back anytime soon.**

**I hear the sound of glass shattering as I throw my skate bag across the room, but I don't bother to check what I broke. Soon I register the sound of sobbing, and it takes me a second before I realize it's me. I'm crying because part of me knew that this was coming. I knew that hockey was making me sad. I knew I would be home sick, but I still packed my bags and left. I knew I was sinking into the shade, yet I didn't move. I let this happen. At this moment, I hate myself for not telling someone, anyone, about everything. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't be here right now. Maybe I would be watching horror movies with Maya, laughing at the horrible graphics. Or maybe I would be at home, playing catch with my brother, talking about our days. But no, I can't think of home, because that just makes me even sadder. And I don't want to be sad anymore. I refuse to be sad anymore.**

**I sink to the ground beside my skate bag, propped up against some boxes. Zipping open the bag, I grab one of the roughed up skates and hold the sharp blade against my palm. I cringe as I feel the blade meet my skin, leaving a line of red. How did it come to this? **

**I've only done this once before, but it was an accident. I had flung my skates across the change room in anger, and had accidently nicked my hand. Or maybe it wasn't an accident. Maybe I was just too crazy to realize I was hurting myself. I look up at the rows of different plants as I feel it go deeper, slowly engraving my fate.**

**Every cut stands for a mistake I made, reminding me of what a screw up I am.**

**Leaving home to join the Ice Hounds.**

**Cut.**

**Letting the hockey jocks and stupid Zig push me around.**

**Cut.**

**Being such a horrible boyfriend to Maya.**

**Cut.**

**Pretending to be okay, while I was a psycho.**

**Cut, cut, cut.**

**I guess I should be scared of what's going to happen next, but everything feels so unimportant now. The anxiety and sorrow is slowly flowing out of me, nothing more than a pool of crimson despair. For the first time in a long time, I think about normal things. Like wondering what time it is, what my mom is making for supper back in Kapuskasing, if Dallas and the team are going to win the regionals. These are the things that are passing through my mind when I hear my phone start to play a familiar tune.**

**The song is "I believe in a thing called love". I know this because it's the song Maya and I sang together at Little Miss Steaks on karaoke night. It's my special ring tone for when Maya calls me.**

**I'm in no shape for answering the phone, so I listen to the song a bit longer until it stops, and the answering machine comes on.**

**"Uh, hey, you've reached Campbell Saunders, I can't come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I'll try and get back to you as soon as I can."**

**The tone beeps, and Maya starts to speak.**

**"Ummmm... It's me again... I don't know where you are or what's going on, but stop ignoring me and pick up your phone. Are you all right? You can talk to me..."**

**I close my eyes as I play her words over and over again in my head. The world is fuzzy now, and I know that I'm slipping away. But when I hear that message, I realize the one thing I'm going to regret the most in my short life. Maya was always there for me, through every up, and every down. She is my sunshine, the light at the end of the tunnel. When I decided that I couldn't hurt her any more, I accepted that I would be leaving her, never to see her again. But what I will regret more than Toronto, more than hockey, more than anything else, is the fact I never told her this myself. I never told her how much I needed her, how much she truly made me happy. I never told her she was my life line, the only thing I could grasp. I know what I have to do. I hold on to her as long as I can, her voice, her smile the way her lips feel against mine. I open my mouth and mutter the five simple words that have been on my mind since the very first time I laid eyes on her. "I love you, Maya Matlin." And then I let go.**

A/N: How was it? Did you like it? R&R! The next chapter will be posted very. Very soon!

-BittersweetXDInsanity


	2. Free Falling

**Free Falling**

**A/N: Hiya readers! I want to give a huge thanks to tomfeltonlover1991 and who left lovely reviews. :D Enjoy the latest chapter!**

•**. •. •. •. •. •. •. **

**MAYA'S POINT OF VEIW**

When I first get the text, I'm extremely confused. I read it again, as if making sure that it is real. "I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over." Wait, is he breaking up with me? I wonder. Cam and I were doing so well. Sure we had our ups and downs, but every relationship has its difficulties, right? I mean what about all the good times?

I think back to last night, how happy we were just enjoying each other's company. I felt so perfectly complete I felt with his arms wrapped around me. Nothing physical had happened of course (I'm only in grade nine and totally NOT ready for anything like that), just complete on an emotional level. I like him so much. I love his brown eyes, his adorable smile, and how he wasn't like the other jocks. Sure, he was also a superstar hockey player, but that didn't matter to me. He was the shy sweetheart who sat at the back of my French class. I had never liked a boy so much before Campbell. And when we became official, I was over the moon. I just wanted to impress him so badly. Maybe that's why he broke up with me. Perhaps I scared him off.

I'm about to call him again, but I stop myself before I press his contact. If he wants to break up with me, he can say it to my face. We've been through so much. I deserve better than a stupid text-and-dump.

That's what I tell myself, anyway. But there's a dreadful feeling in my gut signaling that something is wrong, horribly wrong. This isn't like him... he looked so happy last night. A happiness I hadn't seen in him since the doctor told him he could return to hockey today. In fact, now that I think about it, he hasn't been happy since he came back from visiting his parents over the break. He's been so stressed out. Cam even elbowed Zig in the face when he thought Zig was flirting with me! But I can't worry about Cam right now. I have to get to music, my last class of the day. Then I'll talk to him. I grab my cello and start heading through the emptying halls of Degrassi, dread hanging over me like a dark cloud.

The next morning I arrive at school early, hoping to avoid my best friend Tori. I know she'll be mad at me for declining her calls, and I really don't want to deal with the drama. But much to my dismay, I see her steaming towards me, her brown curls flying behind her.

"MAYA MATLIN! You better have a really good reason for ignoring my texts last night, or I'll-"

"Cam broke up with me." I cut her off, hoping to get it over with. Tori's frown twists into a look of pure confusion before she processes what I said.

"I'm sorry, huh? That stupid, jealous, hokey headed JERK did WHAT?!" Tori almost shouts. If I weren't so frustrated, I would have probably smiled at my overprotective bestie. But instead I just nod my head and look away.

"Omg, Maya, I'm so sorry." She says as she takes me into her arms. Just when I'm about to pull away, she looks over my shoulder and says, "Wow, I wonder what all of the buzz is about." I break away from the hug to ask what she means, when I see it. Two police cars pull into the school, sirens blaring as they drive right past us and towards the greenhouse.

"What do you think happened?" I ask, happy to be off the topic of Campbell. Tori just shrugs her shoulders and says, "Who knows. Probably some idiots growing pot or something stupid like that. It wouldn't be the first time someone has tried something stupid." I'm about to agree when I see an ambulance rushing past us. "Why would they have an ambulance?" I wonder. By now the teachers are rushing out and yelling for us to come inside.

I spot my French teacher running towards Tori and I. "Girls, you need to get inside, right now." She speaks with her heavy French accent that Cam told me he could never understand. But there's a look of pure worry on her face, so Tori and I rush inside the building. I feel the pit of dread grow with every step I take. I want to find Cam, I want to know what's going on, and more than anything I just want my life to go back to the way it was three nights ago, wrapped up in Campbell's loving arms. But apparently none of that is going to happen, because I hear the sound of the P.A system blink to life and say, "Maya Matlin, report to the office. Maya Matlin, report to the office." So I give a nervous wave to Tori and hurry down the halls, the dread eating me alive.

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

The office is dark and foreign to me. I was always a good kid, always obeying the rules and finishing my homework on time, so I never really got sent to the office before. In fact, the ONLY time I was ever sent to the office was when Cam elbowed Zig in the face with a hockey stick, and somehow I was supposed to know what happened. I tap my fingers on my music binder, expecting to have to wait before being called in. But as soon as Mr. Simpson sees me, he waves me in with a look of... sympathy? What is going on here?

"Maya." He says as he signals for me to take a seat. We sit there for a while, a blanket of silence over us both. I stare at his tall figure. He looks exhausted, as if he had just ran a marathon without any sleep.

"I don't know how to put this, so I'm just going to come out and say it." I stare at him a little bit longer before he finally speaks the words that will change my life, the words that were hiding in my unrealized fears.

"Campbell Saunders attempted to commit suicide last night. Mike Dallas. found him bleeding out in the green house."

Everything has a breaking point, whether it is an object, a person, or love. That moment was when I finally broke, shattering into a million pieces. Those pieces are tiny shards of glass, cutting me open, leaving scars. Scars that time won't heal. Wounds that only Cam could fix. I went from being complete one second, to a jumbled up puzzle the next. My missing piece is somewhere out there, broken and bleeding. Dear god, what is happening to me? Mr. Simpson keeps talking, but I only hear parts of what he says.

"...Lost a lot of blood... Coma... Not sure if he'll make it." These are the words that form a jumbled up ball in my head, along with the text Cam sent me. "I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over." Not were over, but IT'S over. The jumbled up ball is rolling around my mind, threatening to crush everything. I don't want to believe that Campbell tried to kill himself. He did this to himself. He might never come out of his coma. I close my eyes and I feel a falling sensation as I block out the rest of the world.

I wake up in my bed, the covers tangled underneath me. I feel a faint smile on my face as I remember the dream I had of about Cam and I. Cam. Memories of yesterday (or today, I have no idea what time it is or how I got home) race through my mind and my smile immediately falters. Cam isn't here. This is so stupid. Cam could have told me anything, but he decided to bottle it up inside before he tried to die. I'm sitting in bed, safe and sound, while he's stuck in a coma. Or maybe he's already dead. There's no way for me to know for sure.

I feel a new wave of tears coming on, but I won't cry. I can't cry. One of us has to stay strong, and I guess that has to be me (since Cam decided to give up on life). I have to be strong, because Campbell never was. I owe it to myself, and I owe it to him. Yet I wonder if he's happy. This is what he wanted, isn't it? He wanted to escape life, to leave me. Did he ever love me? Or was I just something to distract him from his life? All I can do is hope; pray that he keeps holding on.

I flash back to the first time I knew something was wrong. It was after Cam was roughed up by his hockey team, and he was packing to go back to Kapuskasing. I remember every second.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was late, and I should have been at home, doing homework or playing my cello. But instead I was standing outside Cam's bedroom door, listening to a soft thumping sound.

"Cam? Umm... It's me. Can I come in?" It was the early stages of our relationship, where things were still awkward. And the fact that we were each other's first everything (first kiss, first boyfriend/girlfriend, first love...) didn't help. But I cared so much about him and wanted to comfort him. So there I was, awkwardly waiting for him to answer me.

"Maya? C-come in." Cam had called out in a shaky voice that worried me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my leggings, opened the door, and walked in. The sight I saw was not what I expected. Campbell was kneeling on the ground, viciously throwing his clothes and other belongings into a giant suitcase. When he hears the door creak open, he turned to face me.

"What are you doing here?" Cam asked, his voice cracking.

"Cam, what are you doing? Cheesy, are you all right?" I avoided his question with another question. I was hoping to get a smile out of his nickname, but instead he started to cry. I immediately rushed to his side, rubbing his back as I tried my best to comfort him as he began to speak .

"I don't know, Maya. I just want to go home. I'm sick of the team treating me like dirt, I'm sick of crying and I'm sick of people telling me my head isn't screwed on right!"

I didn't know what to say, so I hugged him tightly and slowly rocked us back and forth. Soon I felt his strong arms wrap around me, pulling me so that I was sitting on his lap. I could feel his warm breath tickle the inside of my ear as he said, "I'm sad. I just want it to go away."

A part of me broke, because I don't want him to be the sad Cam that has tears streaming down his face. I want him to be the Cam that wears clover boxers whenever he has to play a big game. The Campbell that's lactose intolerant, but still loves ice cream. I want him to be the happy Campbell that I fell head over heels for. At the time, I didn't know how sad he really was.

"Then be happy." I reply. He broke away from our position. I knew it was not that easy, but I wasn't expecting his reaction.

"You think I want to feel like this? I am all out of ideas, Maya!"

He shouted at me. But once he saw the hurt look on my face, he reached for my hand and held me again.

"Maya, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I'm so, so sorry." He placed a soft kiss on the side of my head. I played with his hair for a while before I finally broke the silence.

"I think you should take a break from hockey," I began. "Dallas and the others don't have the right to treat you poorly, and there's a lot of pressure, I know. So maybe you should try and find something else that makes you happy." I said, smiling up into his big brown eyes. Much to my relief, he returned the look.

"You make me happy, miss Maya Matlin." He replied, and I couldn't help but grin like an idiot.

"You are so cheesy." I said before he pulls me into a kiss. Of course I had kissed Cam before, he was my boyfriend. But that kiss was different. That kiss was sweet, heated, and passionate at the same time. I savored the feeling of his lips against mine, inhaling the minty scent of his cologne. I wish we could have stayed like that forever, rocking to the beat of his heart. But eventually he pulled away, and when he did, he whispered, "thank-you."

"Anytime, superstar." I smiled before leaning in for another kiss.

It's after the flash back when I realize something that I've known all this time, something that I was always sure of, but never told the person who needed to hear it the most. But before I can contemplate this thought for too long, I hear my door creak open and my older sister Katie pops her head in.

"Hey, chicken little. Are you up?" She asks in a soothing voice while her blue eyes examine me. I realize that I must look and sound like crap, considering what I've gone through in the last 24 hours. So I just nod my head as Katie comes and sits beside me, throwing her jet black hair behind her.

"Okay, I know that you are probably sick of thinking and talking about it, so you don't have to. I just wanted to make sure you know that I'm here for you."

I start to cry. Not because of Cam, but because Katie is crying and I hate it when people cry. She is always so rebellious, so strong, and seeing her cry only reminds me that everybody is weak. Just like Cam was weak enough to want to give up on life. And I'm going to be strong, remember?

Katie hugs me and we stay like that a long time, just holding onto each other. The Katie I'm used to wouldn't do this; she would be too busy making out with her boyfriend "Jake" to care about if I'm sad or not. I must admit, even though I sometimes felt neglected by her, I like that Katie too. But I love this version of her a lot more.

Katie continues to hold me, silent tears streaming down her perfect face. I know what it's like to be sad for someone to the point where it makes you cry. Cam made me feel like that on the night he was going to leave. I hug tighter until suddenly Katie starts chuckling, which grows louder until she bursts out laughing. I give her a questionable look, and she tucks a piece of my blond hair behind my ear as she explains.

"I remember when you first told me that you were going on a date with an Ice Hound, and I told you that you couldn't. I told you that all jocks are bad news, but you insisted that this one was different, that he was sensitive and sweet. So I said I'd drive you, but I get to chaperone."

Katie smiles at me before she continues.

"That kid was so afraid that I was going to, like, bite his head off or something. And once I started asking him 20 questions, he froze up. He liked you so much and didn't want to say the wrong thing. I don't blame you guys for running away from me at the movie theater."

I smiled at the memory of Katie asking Cam a bunch of creepy questions, and me grabbing Cam's hand while we ran through the theater. We had so much fun, even though Katie was trying hard to ruin it. Once we stop laughing, she continues on with what she was trying to say.

"I remember the time you guys were fighting about something, and he showed up on our doorstep with all those flowers. I answered the door and tried to scare him off, but he walked right by me so he could apologize to you. I knew then and there that you guys were cuties. I'm sorry for judging him, Maya. You two are perfect for each other."

She gives me one last squeeze before she gets up to leave me in the darkness of my bedroom. I think about everything she said, from our first date to first heartbreak. If I get the chance, I'm going to try my hardest to get him the help he needs. I want him to look me in the eye and tell me that I make him happy, for real this time. Even though Cam tried to end his life, doesn't mean I'm going to give up on him. I can't.

Katie is halfway out the door when I say the first words I've said since I found out.

"I love Cam. But I never told him how much I need him. And now I'm scared I never will get the chance."

Katie stops in the doorway, clutching the frame.

"Whether you get the chance to tell Campbell you love him is up to him, Chicken Little. Cam has to decide if love will conquer all." And with that, she walks away, leaving me in the darkness.

**A/N: So, what do you think? Did you like it? I would love to hear your thoughts on what you liked and what I can do better! I promise it gets better in the next chapters. ;) Please tell me if there are any other characters you would like to see in this story. P.S. Dallas will be introduced in later chapters! :p**

**-BittersweetXDInsanity**


	3. Recovering Grip

**Recovering Grip**

**A/N: Thanks to and kjcletus for reviewing! I always take suggestions and requests. :D Also, a huge thanks to mollrat for alerting this story! I would love to hear from you, so feel free to PM me or write a review! Without further ado, here is chapter 3!**

**CAM'S POV**

White, blinding light. That's all I can see. Just miles and miles of emptiness, fields of nothing. I don't know where I am, and I'm not sure if I should. There is a numbness eating away at me, but I don't know why. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes. Faint noises drift in the background, but I don't try to make out what it is. Everything feels so... blurry. Like when you spin around in circles, then try to see straight.

Opening my eyes, I try to run, but I don't go anywhere. I feel like I'm flying, floating through the white abyss. I try to open my mouth and yell, or make any kind of noise at all. But my voice never comes. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, but I make no sound. The silence is unnerving, and I want to go home. But where is home? How did I get here? Suddenly I feel very, very tired. So many questions race through my mind, but everything feels unimportant now. I stop and let myself fall further into the hollowness, waiting for someone to find me.

When I open my eyes, everything is still white. Except it's not the same blinding light that was there before. It's a creamy, dull white, and it covers almost every inch of the room I'm in. The walls are spotless, and the tiled floor practically sparkles. The only ounce of color in the room comes from the bouquet of flowers, which are resting on the small sterile table beside the unfamiliar bed I'm lying in. I can hear an annoying beeping sound, but I chose to ignore it. Instead, I stare at the soft purple and blue flowers (violets, I think). They remind me of a certain pair of blue eyes, belonging to a certain blond haired girl that feels worlds away right now.

The petals of the flower are so delicate, so fragile that if I touch them, I think they might fall off. I'm about to test my theory, but when I reach out to grasp the stems, I'm stopped by the IV in my arm. I guess I should be worrying about why there are tubes tucked in my body, but I chose to ignore it because if I accept that they are there, then I have to accept why they are there. And I don't want to remember.

So instead of questioning it, I look to my left and discover the source of the beeping I heard earlier. It's a heart monitor.

The word hospital floats threw my mind. I'm not sure why I never realized it before. The sickly white curtains should have been a dead giveaway. But the fact that I'm in a hospital can't be ignored and nether can the reason why I'm here. But I can't contemplate on this thought very long, though, because a chubby nurse with curly brown hair (probably in her mid-forty's, but the ridiculous amount of clown makeup she's wearing makes it hard to tell) walks into the room.

She takes one look at me and stops. Her eyes are wide open as she drops the vase of water she's holding, the transparent glass shattering on impact. I'm worried that she's going to faint, until she finally blinks and try's to pull herself together. She opens her mouth as if she is going to say something, but then changes her mind. There are so many questions I want to ask her, but all I can do is stare, wondering why she is so surprised.

I'm thinking of what I should do when she turns back to the hallway and shouts, "Dr. Sherman, I think you might want to see this."

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting up in the bed while a man (who I assume is Dr. Sherman) and the clown lady (who introduced herself as "Sunny") quiz me on my life. Well, the basic stuff. Like my name, age, birthday, and where I live. I answer cautiously, as if they're trying to trick me into admitting that I committed a crime.

After about five minutes of what feels like an endless game of twenty questions, Dr. Sherman (I think) starts to examine me. He takes out a mini flashlight and points it in my eyes, occasionally telling me to look up or down. I try to read his emotions, but the solemn expression on his face gives away nothing, unlike Sunny. She's staring at me like she expects me to sprout wings and fly away any moment.

"Well, Campbell, you seem to be in a stabilized condition, but I'm going to have to do a few more tests and a little bit more blood work before I truly know what kind of shape you're in. But before I go, I have to ask: do you have any idea why your here?"

I sit for a few more moments and ask myself that same question. Deep down, I know the answer. I'm here because I'm a failure, a screw up who can't do anything right. I'm here because I'm a psycho. I'm sitting in a hospital with bandages tied tightly around my arms because I can't even take my own life without screwing up.

That's what half of me is thinking. But the other part of me, the side that I wish I could always be, is scared. Scared and relieved. I'm terrified that I actually went that far, that I actually let go of everything and tried to... end it. I'm relived because I didn't. There was a part of me that was still holding on. But for how long?

Of course, I don't say any of this out loud. Instead, I just nod my head and stare at the violets on the table, praying that Dr. Sherman will just take my answer and leave. And to my surprise, he does. Sunny gets up to follow him out, but before she does, she sweeps aside the glass from the shattered vase. Then she hesitates before she says, "don't worry sweetie, you're going to be alright. You're in good hands now." Then Sunny turns and hurries away, leaving me alone to wonder what the hell happens next.

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**A/N: Sorry guys! I know it was a short chapter, but I didn't want to give much away about Cam's current condition. :D Reviews make me happy :D *Hint hint***


	4. Fraying Heart

**A/N: I hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season! I would like to give a shout out to kjcletus, and my loyal reader , who has reviewed every chapter so far. Also, a big thank-you to bffits92 for adding Breaking Point to your story alerts. Last but not least, thank-you to EVERYONE who reads this story. It means the world to me. :D**

**Fraying Heart**

**MAYA'S POV**

The last couple of days were horrible. Everything is so different, yet so sickeningly similar. I do normal things, like getting up to go to school, doing homework, eating (not as much as usual), and sleeping (yeah, right.) But it feels strange, like I'm constantly under a microscope, and everyone is watching to make sure I don't crack.

Today is no exception. I wake up feeling more exhausted then when I fell asleep, which was some time around 1:00 am. Slowly, I drag myself out of my bed and manage to find some clothes to wear: a pair of jeans and a graphic tea-shirt. Nothing too great, but enough so I don't look as bad as I feel. Then I comb my hair, brush my teeth, and work my way over to my mirror so I can put a little bit of make up on. When I see my reflection, I almost flinch.

Let's just say I look like I've been hit by a truck, repeatedly.

I heave a sigh, knowing that there's not much I can do about my pale skin and the bags under my tired eyes. So I cover up with some consoler cream and put on a few swipes of mascara. In the end, I look better than before, but not quite good enough to be a hockey superstar's girlfriend. Just normal, the way I wish I could be.

After I finish, I go down stairs to eat some kind of breakfast. I quickly decide on plain Cheerios (ugh), and pour myself a small bowl. As soon as I sit down, I hear footsteps as my mom enters the kitchen with that same stupid sympathetic stare that I have been receiving for a week now.

"Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?" She asks.

If waking repeatedly through the night is well, then yes, I slept terrific!

"I slept fine, thanks." I reply, twirling my spoon and making swirls in my bowl of cereal.

"Are you sure you feel up for school today?" She gives me a cautious glance as she talks.

"Yep, I'm sure. I have a big French assignment coming up, and I really don't want to fall behind." I give her my best You-Don't-Have-To-Worry-About-Me-I'm-Okay smile, and she kisses me on the top of my head.

"Alright, but if you need anything at all, I'm just a phone call away." With that, she walks away. There is something that I need, something I want so desperately that I would give up every dollar I own to have. But, unfortunately, my mom can't give it to me.

I turn my attention back to my long forgotten Cheerios that are now soggy and even more unappealing. I sigh, knowing that I'll never eat them now. So I dump my breakfast in the garbage and grab my bag, ready to catch the bus to school.

No one expects me to go to school, or to act like everything is okay (even though it's not). But I do. My mom, Katie, Tori and Tristan, my teachers, EVERYONE expects me to break down and cry. But I won't. I promised myself I would be strong, and I can't quit now. So instead, I do everything as if my boyfriend didn't try to commit suicide, and isn't in a coma.

I let the door slam behind me as I start the short walk to where the bus picks me up. Occasionally my mom drives me, but I don't really feel like doing that today. I don't think I can take another five minutes of my mom telling me how I have to keep going and stay positive. I already know that. But it's difficult when everywhere I go, I get sympathetic looks while people whisper, "OMG I think that's suicide boy's girlfriend." It's not easy sitting in French class, knowing that Cam won't be sitting behind me. It's hard when I'm forced to go to therapy sessions to talk about him and how I feel.

I don't know how I feel.

I hear the engine of the bus as it pulls up. It's yellow and black paint reminds me of a big fat bumble bee, carrying students off to the hive that is high school. I might not know how I feel about everything, but I do know that If I go much longer without knowing if Cam is going to live, I'll lose it. Every time I look at a clock I'm reminded that with every passing minute, Cam's chances of waking up shrink. At one point of time, I actually wished that he had of died. At least then I would know. At least then I could morn his loss, knowing that he isn't coming back.

I take a seat at the front of the bus as I sort out the jumble of thoughts in my mind. What if he wakes up unhappy? What if he has to be taken away to an insane asylum? What if I'm the reason he did it? Or worse: what if he tries again?

I look out at the window as I think to myself, 'A grade nine student should never have to worry about these things.'

My morning is uneventful. After I arrive at school, I head straight to class, walking through the narrow, and beat up hallways until I arrive at my destination. Math classroom 187.

Unlike most students, I actually enjoy math class. Not the actual equations and homework (I hate that part), but because I like my teacher. I think that he is the only person that treats me like a normal student ever since the school found out about what happened to Cam. He doesn't give me any special treatment, or sympathetic pep talks. He just carries on with the assignments, allowing me to get lost in my work.

After math, I head to music class. There are a few little games I made up that help me escape the whispers in the hallways. Sometimes, I try to find a locker that is not dented or broken. When that doesn't work, I imagine myself as a giant, squishing all the annoying onlookers and the gossipers that think they know what happened. Today I read the locker numbers. 1235, 1236, 1237... Until I arrive at my class. Then I open up my cello case and play while I stare at the clock, blocking out the classroom chatter.

Time seems to move slower every time I glance at the minute hand. The clock is mocking me, laughing at the fact that with every passing minute, Cam slips further out of my grasp.

Tick, tock, tick, tock...

By the time the bell rings, I am already packing my instrument away. Swiftly, I tuck it back onto its shelf and begin to walk to my locker. But before I can reach the end of the hallway, I hear Zig calling me.

Ugh. It's not that I don't like Zig, it's just that ever since we kissed... it's been hard to be friends. Kissing was wrong. It should have never happened. I was just so mad at Cam and so lonely, I made a stupid mistake. I told Cam what happened, and he forgave me. But apparently, Zig didn't think it was wrong. In fact, ever since then he has been a total jerk to Cam, trying to convince me that I should date him instead. Bugging me was one thing, but after antagonizing Cam to the point where he gave Zig a black eye, I don't want anything to do with Zig.

But it's too late to pretend I didn't hear him, because I'm pretty sure he saw me hesitate when he called my name.

"Maya! It's really important! Wait!"

I stop in my tracks, turning to face him. I can hear the buzzing of students chatting with their friends and slamming lockers. I wish I could slip away into the crowd, escaping whatever important news Zig feels the need to share with me. Can't he take a hint?

Apparently not.

"What do you want?" I say, a little bit harsher then I intended. Zig runs a hand through his dark hair, and I can't help but notice how tired he looks. The purple rings under his eyes make it look like he hasn't slept in days, and his fingers are tapping nervously against his leg. A week ago, I would have felt pity for him and asked him what was wrong. But as of now, all of my emotions are locked away deep inside me. I keep my face blank, and my guard up.

Zig takes a deep breath before blurting out, "It's about Cam."

Just like that, the walls I built up come crashing down at the sound of his name. What about Cam? What the hell can Zig tell me about the broken boy that may never awake from a coma? He doesn't have the right to talk about Cam, when all he did was treat him like shit.

But as I open my mouth to tell Zig my thoughts, the P.A system buzzes to life.

"Maya Matlin, please report to the office for an important message. Maya Matlin, report to the office."

The announcement cuts off after a few moments of static. "I have to go." I say quietly before I turn and rush down the hallway, not stopping to look back. I can feel his gaze follow me as I navigate through the crowd, ignoring the whispers. This time, I don't read the locker numbers, or pretend to crush everyone. I simply look ahead, focusing my mind on what news may be waiting for me at the office. But as I hurry towards my destination, I can't help but wonder: what was Zig trying to tell me?

**A/N: What was Zig trying to tell her? And what news awaits her at the office? I would love to hear your guy's guesses and requests! I have gotten a lot of questions about when other characters will be introduced, such as Dallas and the other hockey boys. They will most likely come in during chapter six. Cam's POV is up next! R&R! -BittersweetXDInsanity**


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